


ka-pow!

by jelly_spine



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Supervillain AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_spine/pseuds/jelly_spine
Summary: LEE DONGHYUCK VS LOVE! EPIC SHOWDOWN!





	ka-pow!

**Author's Note:**

> after such a long time, i'm back on my bullshit. gotta keep hate anons employed yknow  
> a LOT of swearing, relatively graphic mentions of violence and injury, donghyuck's a whole dumbass  
> enjoy

6:34pm: Donghyuck’s screaming shit, shit, shit, and Jaemin scrambles around to run away, fries spilling out of his hoodie’s pocket like fucking Hansel and Gretel.

They have no idea who the superhero pursuing them is. It’s a guy, Donghyuck manages to distinguish in his haste to get away, with a pair of jeans pulled on over a disgustingly unoriginal navy-blue leotard - and all Donghyuck can think of is Yuta, eyes red-rimmed after a long night spent hacking some government program, parodying, “Hello, I am the Hollister guy of superheroes and I think I can be an asshole to whoever I want because I helped a granny cross a road once.”

Donghyuck and Jaemin run down the street in tandem, turn left, run, turn right, skip right through the street, storm down the stairs two at a time to the metro station and manage to board the train right before the doors slide shut. Donghyuck pulls at the skin under his eyes and Jaemin sticks his tongue out as the train glides away, leaving the superhero standing on the dock and rocking back on his heels.

Jaemin picks a bunch of fries out of his pocket. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, from front to back in time with the train’s swaying, ripping the lid off a pack of mayonnaise. He dips the fries in. Chewing them up with his molar teeth, he casts a bored look over his reflection in the window and says, “The fuck was his problem?”

Donghyuck clutches a strap for balance and shrugs.

6:21pm: Donghyuck and Jaemin consult the backlit pictures of burgers, as if they weren’t boring teenagers who always get the same thing. Their shoelaces are tied tight. Hoods pulled over their heads so the light only falls on the tips of their noses. Jeans genuinely ripped from fucking around instead of the cool slits you have to pay a little bit extra for.

Jaemin spreads his fingers wide, easing his white mask’s elastic band around his head. “You should’ve done that before we came in,” Donghyuck admonishes from the confines of his own cheap cat mask bought from the party store downtown.

The girl in front of them in line scuttles away with her tray. They step up to the counter. The cashier can’t seem to decide whether she’s more worried about the sharpie scribble stretching over the bridge of Jaemin’s mask’s nose ( _the wind ain’t so kind_ ) or Donghyuck systematically going through every one of his pockets in search of something.

“Good evening,” Jaemin greets politely, “we aren’t going to order anything but I think it might be a good idea to step back from the counter. So you don’t hit it on your way down, you know?”

Naturally, the cashier doesn’t know. Before she can ask, Donghyuck pulls out a little pouch with a soft _aha_ and pours a miniature Hallasan of catnip on his palm. He throws the leaves up in the air. Jaemin holds his breath and counts to ten. By the time he’s finished, everyone in the fast food restaurant except for him and Donghyuck has collapsed.

Donghyuck clambers over the counter and crouches over the cashier. The underside of her chin is torn open, blood running down her neck and forming lumps in her corkscrew curls. “Fuck,” he reports, lip curling in disgust, “I think she might need stitches.”

Jaemin jumps over the counter too, sidestepping Donghyuck and the girl’s strewn limbs. “Unbelievable. I even told her to watch out. Should we call an ambulance?” he asks and proceeds into the kitchen. He stuffs his hoodie’s pocket with as many burgers and fries as he can, fingertips shimmering faintly with grease.

“I am _not_ pretending to be a chick over the phone again,” Donghyuck grumbles. He gets up, knees clicking as he straightens up, to look for a first-aid kit.

“Oh, yeah, that was iconic,” Jaemin laughs, filling a one-litre water bottle with soda. It was a messy affair—Donghyuck stuttering into the phone, voice wrenched up high by force, looking down at an employee who was working on some fries when the catnip hit, blisters blooming over his arms. “I hope Jisung still has the video.”

Donghyuck ties a bandage around the cashier’s head, from the chin to the top of her head, like they do to kids who’ve just got their wisdom teeth removed. Once he feels he’s done the little best he can, he pats her cheek. He and Jaemin get back over the counter. Donghyuck dips his fingers in ketchup and traces on the wall, _get the cashier to the hospital. thx for the food losers._

The catnip’s effect only lasts five minutes. At four minutes and fifty-five seconds, Donghyuck and Jaemin are half out of the door. Out of nowhere, the superhero shouts for them to stop. They run like hell.

/

“What am I going to get from it?” Yuta asks, fingers working on some manifold code. The steady clack of the keyboard only slows down when he has to hit the s key, which Taeil wrenched off ages ago for no apparent reason.

Their little supervillain organisation’s headquarters are small and dusty and dark. There’s only the glare of Yuta’s computer’s screen and the feeble glow of a lava lamp, barely reaching the tips of Donghyuck and Jaemin’s sneakers. Taeil opens the fridge and for a second there’s a whole Milky Way of light shooting through the room. Donghyuck squints hard. Taeil takes his beer and it’s gone again.

“Well,” Donghyuck starts, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion, “I don’t really know. Friendship points?”

Taeil sees Jaemin laughing and signs, asking what’s so funny. Jaemin moves his hands in a maladroit explanation of the situation, stopping to think between each motion, trying to recall under his breath. Taeil waits patiently, sitting on the edge of his leather armchair. When Jaemin’s managed a vague recounting, he mouths, _ok?_ and Taeil laughs soundlessly. Like he always does.

Yuta shrugs. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “So you want to know who the jerk who chased you is?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck replies. “I’d never seen him before. Maybe a new rookie assigned to us?”

Yuta’s already pulled up a superhero database. “Sounds likely. How old was he? Hair colour? Height? Ass? Was he even cute?”

Jaemin translates everything for Taeil. Donghyuck rubs the back of his neck, turning over his slim memory of the few blurry moments of pursuit in his head, and recalls, “About my age. Black, I think. A bit shorter than Jaemin. Fuck I know.”

Yuta types in the information and hits enter. A long, long list of profiles appears, all equally likely to be the superhero they’re looking for. Donghyuck goes up to the computer. He looks at the identity pictures scrolling past. Picture after picture of boys with neat postures and carefully set expressions.

“Do you know what his power is? Was there anything particular about him?” Yuta prods further, rolling the scrolling wheel of the computer mouse back and forth. Donghyuck’s starting to feel a bit numb behind the eyes.

Donghyuck sighs. “He was about as particular as a piece of white bread.”

Yuta laughs and says, “You’ll have to interrogate him a bit, then.”

Taeil signs something like _make sure to check his behind this time_ and Donghyuck pretends he doesn’t catch it through the corner of his eye.

/

Jaemin’s stayed in to _study for a math test_ , so Donghyuck has to set up the superhero trap all by himself. He picks the lock of a grocery store’s graffitied shutters and pulls them up, then starts fiddling with the door’s lock. Thank god Seungwan from another supervillain organisation that’s coincidentally based in the same block of flats lent him a few hairpins and gave him a crash course.

Once inside, Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at the security camera. He makes a bunch of rude gestures and strikes a few poses. Yuta sends him a text to please hurry up so the superhero doesn’t surprise him before he’s prepared (he phrases it a lot cruder, throwing an affectionate _moron_ in). Donghyuck lifts his hands palms up, jutting his bottom lip out while looking at the lens.

Donghyuck finds a crappy bluetooth speaker behind the counter. He puts on Cyndi Lauper, picks an aisle, walks to the back and climbs on top of a shelf, kicking tins of pineapple down to the ground on his way up.

Two thirds through Girls Just Want To Have Fun, the guy breezes into the store. He’s got that hopeless leotard on again. Donghyuck checks the time from his phone and swings his feet and shoots the superhero a smile. “Nine minutes. Not bad for a rookie.”

Donghyuck finally realises the guy’s entire face is literally pixelated. He can only see the vague pink where his cheeks are and the shadow of his eyes shifting over the pixels as he grumbles, “Eight and a half.”

Donghyuck laughs. “Sure, whatever you like.” He scoots to the next shelf over and reaches down to pick up a box of cereal.

“Put it back, I don’t want to fight you,” the guy sighs, watching Donghyuck open the box and dig his hand inside.

Donghyuck snickers. He throws a handful of froot loops at the superhero. “Why don’t you want to fight me? I would if I could,” he asks, watching a turquoise loop get caught in his adversary’s hair.

The guy takes a look at his wrist watch. “Honestly? Because it’s currently two in the fucking morning,” the guy says.

“Ooh, _fucking._ Big words for a big boy,” Donghyuck nods, mouth full of cereal, the sugar heavy on his tongue. The guy splutters and Donghyuck laughs a bit more. “And do you have a _fucking_ name?”

The guy hesitates. “Dummy,” he eventually says.

“Dummy. Did your mom not love you?” Donghyuck puts on a fake empathetic pout.

Dummy runs a hand over his pixelated face. “It’s not my birth name.”

Donghyuck snaps his fingers like light bulbs going off in his head. “Okay, okay, I get it now! So it’s just a nickname that describes your intellectual capacity better?”

“It’s video game terminology. Like, stuff that’s removed from the game,” Dummy sighs. At this rate, he’s going to rub the pixels off. “Why am I even explaining it to you? This is not what I’m here for.”

“I was just wondering about that, actually. Why _are_ you here?” Donghyuck stuffs another handful of loops in his mouth. He chews with his mouth half open on purpose, just to see Dummy’s pixelated eyebrows furrow.

Dummy gestures between Donghyuck and the ground. “I need you to come down.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Donghyuck asks, unphased.

“It wasn’t a question,” Dummy deadpans.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” Donghyuck taunts. He turns the music a few notches louder. “I’m absolutely terrified, look at how my hands are trembling.” They do tremble a bit, but he lowers them back in his lap before Dummy can catch it.

Dummy starts rummaging around his pockets. He pulls out his fist closed around something. It takes a bit of effort for Donghyuck to keep himself from leaning forward in interest.

Dummy uncurls his fingers and reveals a laser pointer sitting in the middle of his palm. “I’ve heard you’re into these, kitty cat,” he laughs. His voice cracks a bit at the corners at the peak of each laugh. His smile’s white and wide enough to shine through his mask.

“I didn’t know superheroes would do anything as lowly as gossip.” Donghyuck’s shoulders are winding tenser and tenser like guitar strings getting tightened endlessly. He hates laser pointers with every single one of his human cells. No one’s thought of using it against him before, not even that one annoyingly persistent superhero who followed him around for a year, perpetually chomping on chewing gum.

Dummy starts tracing lazy circles across the floor. He trails up the shelf until the reaches Donghyuck’s feet and says, “Ready to come down yet?” The dot hovers on the tip of Donghyuck’s left sneaker.

Donghyuck’s fists tighten around the edge of the shelf. “I think you know better than that,” he manages to squeeze out without sounding as strained as he feels. Every tendon and muscle pulled taut.

Dummy guides the red dot along Donghyuck’s limbs and torso, following the angular lines of his body. He spirals it right in the middle of Donghyuck’s sternum, weirdly deliberate. Donghyuck presses his chin to his chest to keep it in his sight. Dummy takes the opportunity to move the pointer sharply downwards.

Donghyuck’s body moves before he can do anything about it. His heels kick against the edge of the shelf and he touches the ground before Cyndi Lauper’s finished her sentence. White hot pain shoots through his ankle.

Screaming, Donghyuck’s found, really is the best remedy right after pain meds. That’s what he does, clutching his ankle and rolling around, the froot loops scattered on the ground crushed into rainbow dust under him. His only consolation is that he managed to hit Dummy in the face on his way down.

Oh, and, “Hey, asswipe!” It’s Yuta over the intercom, sounding furious. At Donghyuck or Dummy, Donghyuck isn’t sure before the speakers crackle on again and Yuta roars a continuation, “Don’t worry, Duckie, we’re coming to get you! And you, dumb shit or whoever, get him something cold for his ankle.” Dummy looks surprised even through his pixel veil, still holding his forehead while he looks around.

Dummy tries to help Donghyuck up but Donghyuck kicks at him with his untouched foot. He stays sprawled on the ground and watches Dummy circle around to the freezer and take out two ice creams. Dummy presses them against his ankle, careful not to put too much pressure.

“If only you’d just come down on your own,” Dummy remarks.

“Fuck off,” Donghyuck says.

Donghyuck has to lean on Dummy to get out of the store without falling on his face and hates it. They sit on the edge of the pavement. Donghyuck scoots as far from Dummy as he can and closes his ears whenever Dummy tries to bring up whatever he’s trying to say.

A dog materialises out of nowhere, running out from behind a Skoda. It’s some kind of greyhound. Legs like twigs, chest sloping deep.

“Why’s it missing a leg?” Donghyuck asks, watching the dog hop around on three legs, one of its front legs seemingly cutting off out of nowhere. The hair at the back of his neck stands up.

Dummy shrugs. “A glitch.” Donghyuck squints at the dog and it really is made out of pixels. Dummy clears his throat. “You wanna hear me out now?”

Donghyuck leans away when the dog jogs up to him and tries to sniff him. “No.”

Right then, Taeil pulls up in his scoffing Hyundai Elantra that never starts up when Donghyuck’s really late for school. He rolls the window down and lifts his hands off the steering wheel to sign, _Well, did you take a picture?_

Donghyuck almost blushes. He clears his throat. “Would you mind turning around for a second?”

Dummy snorts. “To facilitate you stabbing me in the back?” he asks, turning around anyway.

Donghyuck digs out his phone and says, “Sure, if it makes you happy.”

/

“He’s not as dumb as his name suggests,” Yuta says. He cracks his fingers one after the other. Then, he pulls back up the government database and types in Dummy. “This rookie of yours managed to block me out of the store’s security system for fifteen minutes with some weird game. Can you believe one of the country’s best hackers had to hop around a pink maze like a little fucktard?”

 _A humble man_ , Taeil signs, putting wrapping Donghyuck’s ankle on hold for a bit. A giggle rises in Donghyuck throat but he swallows it back down when Yuta turns to throw him a look over his shoulder. He’s found Dummy’s profile, a special stamp next to his picture.

“A high-ranker?” Donghyuck asks.

Yuta hums. “Apparently, yes. I really don’t see why he would be running after you.”

Taeil slaps Donghyuck’s thigh to get his attention. _Maybe he likes you._ A cheeky smile, his eyes glinting in the dark.

Yuta doesn’t help by following up with, “How was his ass, by the way?”

Donghyuck puts his phone down on the table. He doesn’t bother to unlock it because he knows Yuta knows the password anyway. Says, “I’m going to sleep.”

/

Yuta and Taeil’s sense of responsibility isn’t quite big enough - they’re supervillains, after all - which leaves Youngho to make sure Donghyuck brushes his teeth, moisturises, goes to school and eats three meals a day.

Generally, Donghyuck would say Youngho’s his favourite hyung, although it changes according to the time of day. Or night.

Youngho was originally hired to teach Yuta, Donghyuck and Jaemin sign language - American sign language for whatever reason, but Donghyuck secretly thinks it’s much cooler anyway. Taeil had just jumped over from another cell and after texting everything they wanted to say to each other for a month or two Taeil got sick of the others’ spelling mistakes.

Yuta found Youngho on a dodgy language course site. For a while he dropped in once a week, using the living room window as a whiteboard and sitting on top of the mini fridge because the other seats were taken and the floor was too much of a reach for him. He got paid a hefty amount to keep quiet about it until Taeil apparently signed him something they both still refuse to teach to Donghyuck and Jaemin and the rest is history.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Youngho says, easing Donghyuck’s backpack’s straps onto his shoulders.

Donghyuck stomps his foot, remembering a bit too late he should’ve done it with his other foot. The gasp he lets out is real, though exaggerated. “I’m suffering, Youngho, don’t you see?”

Youngho laughs and pushes him out through the door. Jaemin’s waiting a few blocks down. He grins at Donghyuck’s limp, mouth cracking open into a criminally bright smile.

“Fell for him pretty hard, huh,” Jaemin jokes.

Donghyuck pulls his sock up over the bandages and grumbles, “Maybe if he’d caught me.” He straightens back up. Pats non-existent dust off the thighs of his jeans. “Cinema after school?”

“Sure,” Jaemin agrees with a shrug.

Donghyuck opens his phone. The notes are open. There’s this, typed in by Yuta: _pretty avrage butt his face better be good LMAO gn_.

/

“What was that superprick’s deal in the end?” Jaemin pulls a bag of chicken nuggets and three cheeseburgers out of the inside pocket of his jacket, his feet on the back of the chair in front of him.

Donghyuck wriggles deeper into the chair. “I don’t know,” he replies. The last commercial before the movie ends and the lights along the walls start dimming. “He said he had a question but never got around to asking me.”

Jaemin tears a burger’s wrappings open right in the middle of the pseudo-tragic opening scene. “Hm. Heard he’s one of the elite. Weird.”

Obediently, Donghyuck takes out the bag of mini carrots Youngho made him take. A carrot snaps sharply between his teeth before he repeats, “Weird?”

Jaemin looks at Donghyuck through the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Normie superheroes are already dicks about having to deal with us, why the hell would someone like this guy bother?” He balls up his burger’s wrapper and throws it somewhere in the audience. “Like, fuck, we don’t even kill people.”

“True,” Donghyuck muses. “We should be careful, though. He’s probably a lot stronger than he seems.”

Jaemin’s eyes flicker down to Donghyuck’s ankle crossed over his knee. He throws one of the burgers on Donghyuck’s lap. “ _You_ should be careful.”

/

The one useful feline characteristic Donghyuck’s got is the complete lack of fear of heights. Otherwise he would’ve started crying about the pavement far, far down instead of the pack of dogs that was still barking up at him a minute ago.

That is, until Dummy came to shoo them away. Not necessarily an improvement to Donghyuck’s situation.

“Isn’t this the classic superhero saves a little girl’s cat that can’t get down from a tree scenario?” Dummy calls. Donghyuck’s glad the pixels spare him from what must be the atrocity of a shit-eating grin.

Donghyuck wipes at his cheeks with the heel of his palm. “I’m not owned by a little girl and I can very well get down by myself, thank you very much,” he hollers back.

“But hey, this is kind of convenient.” Dummy leans against the streetlight pole. He tilts his face up towards Donghyuck. “I can finally tell you what I’ve been trying to say and you can’t run away.” Eventually the streetlight becomes too much so he looks back down.

“So tell me, then,” Donghyuck shouts. He fiddles with his mask, trying to put it on before Dummy finds out about his real identity and the massive pimple on his chin.

Dummy shakes his head. “It’s not exactly something I can holler in the middle of the street for everyone to hear like this. You’ll have to come down.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Donghyuck snaps.

Dummy kicks lightly at the pole. “You do.”

“Okay, yeah, I do,” Donghyuck admits. He squirms, embarrassed. “But I kinda don’t know how.”

Dummy laughs. A lot. So much even he has to lean on his thighs for a bit. Donghyuck sniffs and looks up at the foggy dark sky. He refuses to look back down even when Dummy clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, going kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty.

Getting Donghyuck down is a hassle. Dummy tells him to think of the pole as one of those cool things firemen slide down and Donghyuck tells him to go fuck himself. After a long while of hesitation and a single curious passer-by stopping to observe the noisy maneuver, Donghyuck slides down. Dummy catches him around the waist.

“Ew,” Donghyuck spits, and Dummy’s laugh glitches a bit before he lets go.

Probably part of some superhero code of chivalry bullshit, Dummy buys Donghyuck a juice box. They sit on the curb on a quiet street, the yellow streetlight weighing heavy on their laps.

“Don’t have your dog with you today?” Donghyuck asks, sipping on his juice.

Dummy smiles and shakes his head. “No, but I can summon her in a second if you like.”

Donghyuck looks up at the dusty lights in the high rise buildings’ windows. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

Dummy laughs. He kicks at a detached piece of pavement. “You really don’t like dogs, huh?”

“I mean,” Donghyuck replies, gesturing at his mask, “what did you expect?”

Dummy shrugs. Then, “Oh, right.” He pulls a bunch of folded documents out of his jacket’s pocket. “We actually need your cell’s help.”

Donghyuck stares. “Our help? You wouldn’t touch any of us with a two-metre pole.”

Dummy glances at Donghyuck’s hand. “I don’t know about that, but we’ve encountered a situation that my superiors deemed best solved through the inside, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not stupid because I don’t wear an ugly leotard,” Donghyuck deadpans, chewing on his straw. “But what’s in it for us?”

“Of course, you’ll receive a considerable reward, and maybe we can overlook some of your activities,” Dummy gushes, thrusting the papers into Donghyuck’s hands. “All the conditions are written there, you should review it and hopefully sign it.”

Donghyuck scans the documents. He wonders if any of his co-criminals will have the patience to actually read it through.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Dummy asks, maybe in a genuinely friendly manner.

Donghyuck laughs. “I think I’m fine. See you, nerd.”

/

Youngho adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Well, this is a considerable amount of money for sure. _And_ they would forget about the three cars and motorboat we’ve stolen.” He flips a few more pages. His and Donghyuck’s legs barely fit under the tiny kitchen table at the same time. “This doesn’t say anything about the fake IDs or the credit cards, though. Maybe they don’t know.”

“I’m sure Donghyuck can get us a bit of bonus, superheros are attracted to him like moths to a flame,” Yuta says, slapping his hand on his keyboard.

Donghyuck yelps, the bit of milk pudding on his spoon jiggling. “The hell I will!”

Yuta blinks. “Then, Jaemin?”

Jaemin smiles and waves his hands. “I have a lot of tests coming up. Plus, Donghyuck clearly has this high-ranker wrapped around his little finger.”

Yuta swivels back around on his office chair to look at Donghyuck. “I guess it’s decided, then. You bat your pretty eyes and get us a fat reward, kid.”

 _Good luck_ , Taeil signs over Youngho’s shoulder.

/

“You really had to throw a rock at a shop’s window,” Dummy exhales heavily, following Donghyuck away from the mat of glass shards on the pavement. He turns to smile at the owner who’s still frothing at the mouth by the door.

The loose ties around his wrists Dummy put on as part of protocol allow Donghyuck to shrug. His ankle’s complaining more after each step he takes. “What was I supposed to do? Call you?”

Dummy sticks his bottom lip out. “I admit. Do you have the contract?”

“Yeah, about that.” Donghyuck stops in the furthest corner of a park, behind a humongous tree with a light shadow. The grass scrunches and snaps under their feet, still yellow from the summer. “My colleagues didn’t quite agree with the reward.”

Dummy’s eyebrow rises a few pixels upward. He starts untying Donghyuck’s hands. “It was pretty generous, though?”

“Yeah, but we would like twice the money for it,” Donghyuck says.

Dummy doesn’t say anything for a long time. Much more lenient than Donghyuck expected, he nods and says, “Yeah, I can try to make that happen.”

Donghyuck smiles as wide as his mouth stretches and Dummy looks a bit dumbstruck. “Well, then,” Donghyuck concludes, intending to leave. Instead, his ankle gives out under his weight and he falls on his ass. Just like that.

There’s a flat moment of Dummy simply looking at Donghyuck sitting on the ground, until he snaps out of it and says, “I’m taking you home.”

“No,” Donghyuck declines, already being pulled up onto his feet and pushed to hop on Dummy’s back. He crosses his arms. “No, you can’t.”

Dummy heaves a heavy sigh. “Then I’m actually taking you to the police station and telling them you’ve just broken someone’s window.”

“This is blackmail,” Donghyuck complains, climbing on. Dummy’s skinny but surprisingly steady, adjusting his grip on Donghyuck’s thighs.

Donghyuck directs Dummy by tugging on his hair and Dummy whines but doesn’t really do anything about it. It’s only early evening, there are plenty of people to look at them like they’ve grown a second head. Donghyuck’s thankful for his mask even if it leaves ugly imprints on his cheeks.

“My boss’s son’s disappeared,” Dummy suddenly says when they’re waiting for a pedestrian crossing’s light to turn green.

Donghyuck feels himself slipping down and clings tighter to Dummy’s shoulders. “Is that what you need help with?”

The light changes. Dummy sets off and says, “Yeah. There’s been no sign of him for a week or two but we don’t think he just ran away out of his own will. He’s not the type.”

“So you think he was kidnapped by supervillains?” Donghyuck asks. Dummy hums. “How do you know we don’t have him?”

Donghyuck sees from the curve of Dummy’s cheek that he smiles before he simply shrugs. It’s not hard to forget he’s part of the elite of superheroes. With his silly grin that pierces his mask sometimes and his mild temperament and lame jokes.

Dummy puts Donghyuck down a block away from the hq. Although, Donghyuck can’t disclose him that information so, theatrically, he says, “I’ll be fine, even if it’s kind of a long way still.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to take you a bit further?” Dummy asks, confusingly worried, like Donghyuck isn’t just a piece of gum on the sole of his shoe.

“Yeah, yeah, you can fuck off now,” Donghyuck gibbers, a bit disconcerted.

Tottering away, planning on playing dead on the living room floor until Youngho carries him to bed and brings a cool pack for his ankle, Donghyuck glances over his shoulder. Dummy turns on his heel in a hurry and half-runs away. Donghyuck exhales through his nose, shakes his head and goes home.

/

Dummy tilts his head at Taeil in curiosity, then turns to Donghyuck. “What did he say?”

Taeil smiles. “He said you need a makeover,” Donghyuck translates, signing the last part for Taeil, “you look like you could have a made in China tag on your ass - oh my god, you’ll crush his fragile little heart.”

Dummy sighs. “Okay. How will that go?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it,” Yuta butts in, taking out the pile of clothes Jaemin dropped off at the hq on his way to cram school or something. “Try these on.”

Dummy leaves to go change. Yuta rolls up his mask to slurp on his ramen noisily. A piece of mushed noodle flies out with his complaints about having to hide his identity for the first time in months. The waitress looks on in horror from behind the counter, very likely worried for her life.

Jaemin’s clothes are an almost perfect fit. Dummy stares down at the worn cargo trousers like he’s never worn a pair. “Do I look like a supervillain now?” he asks. He doesn’t seem very convinced.

“Well, no,” Donghyuck says. “You probably need to change your hair colour and your mask.”

Taeil nods and adds, _And his name._

“Right,” Donghyuck agrees. Dummy frowns.

Yuta and Donghyuck are pondering which hairdresser they should threaten into dying Dummy’s hair when Dummy says, “That’s easy,” and bends down to rummage through his bag. He lifts a computer keyboard on the table after he’s pushed the ramen bowls away to make space. He sticks the end of the cable into his mouth and starts typing.

Leaning over the table, Yuta traces the movements of Dummy’s fingers. Donghyuck and Taeil take the opportunity to gobble up what’s left of their lunches.

Dummy takes the cable out of his mouth. His hair’s turned tawny brown, just like that. Donghyuck reaches out to touch it with his gyoza-greasy hands and Dummy just chuckles. A bit of pink sneaks into the pixels.

“Impressive,” Yuta admits bitterly.

Dummy’s new disguise is another party store mask, a giraffe, and his spanking new supervillain name is Pixie. The connection between the two isn’t very clear but, to their advantage, in supervillain circles very few questions are asked.

“Pixie. Kind of like pixels, you know,” Donghyuck explains. Dummy fiddles somewhere behind his left ear to turn his original pixel mask off. “Should we pierce his ears too? For authenticity?”

“No thanks,” Dummy immediately says.

Yuta wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He hums. “I think you’re ready to go now.”

/

Donghyuck and Jaemin play chopsticks at the entrance of an alley. It’s Dummy’s fault Donghyuck loses because he materialises out of nowhere, grabbing Donghyuck’s sides.

“Hey, you’re Dummy, no?” Jaemin asks, offering his hand.

Dummy takes the hand. “Bingo. Eastern Wind, am I right?”

“Ew for short,” Donghyuck laughs from the side, where he was mourning the loss of his dignity. Jaemin throws him a nasty look.

They set out for the place Dummy’s boss’s son was last seen. “This is where he parted ways with his classmate around ten o’clock in the evening,” Dummy says. They come to a halt in front of a little stationery shop with endless rows of expensive pens in the window.

Donghyuck’s only been ogling the fit of the casual clothes on Dummy. Staring at the sidewalk for clues would be useless anyway. “Hmm,” he says, turning his gaze to a steamed bun restaurant on the other side of the street. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“Are you serious?” Dummy yelps, but Donghyuck and Jaemin are already halfway across the street. Donghyuck turns to flash him a peace sign. Dummy sighs and walks down to a pedestrian crossing.

Dummy’s superhero badge not only prevents the waiter from pressing on the last digit of the emergency number but also gets them one extra bun each. The three of them sit in the back corner of the restaurant. The booths are all glossy oak, burnt, reddish yellow in the light of the lamps that look a bit like flying saucers.

Donghyuck challenges Jaemin for a rematch of chopsticks. Dummy joins in.

“I don’t know if you know,” Donghyuck says absentmindedly, increasing the amount of fingers on Dummy’s left hand to four, “but we’re in the middle of Dobong Fifteen’s territory.”

“Dobong Fifteen?” Dummy repeats. He takes another bite of his bun.

Jaemin hums. “Yeah, a supervillain gang. They’d probably know something about your missing dude.”

“Oh. And how would we find them?” Dummy asks, his right hand out of the game.

Jaemin and Donghyuck share a look and a shrug. On the brink of winning again, Jaemin figures, “Well, at their cover-up place probably.”

The jewellery shop is a maze of display cases. Donghyuck peers at shiny rings and necklaces and earrings ladled on velvet cushions, his breath fogging up the glass.

Twenty seconds after the bell over the door rings, a guy walks out of the back room. When he sees the trio’s masks he lets out one single self-assured laugh. “Hey kids, robbers don’t make it out of this store alive,” he says. Jaemin puts a gold chain down.

Donghyuck prances up to the counter. “Oh, no, we’re not here for that. We just think someone capable of kidnapping the superhero organisation’s boss’s son is worth meeting.”

The young man lifts an eyebrow. “Superhero organisation’s boss’s son? Sounds grandiose but we wouldn’t touch any of those asswipes even if we were asked to.”

Dummy kicks a shelf. The glass rattles and Donghyuck really wishes it was on accident. To draw the attention away from it, he insists, “But everyone’s saying Dobong Fifteen took him and are asking for a huge-ass ransom.”

“Look, I don’t know who this _everyone_ of yours is but we haven’t kidnapped anyone after 2009. The most exciting thing that’s happened around here in a while is when some asshole from a dregs cell got punched by a high-school kid a couple weeks ago.” The guy taps his fingers against the glass countertop, his patience obviously wearing thin.

“You saw it?”

“Nah, one of our rookies did.”

Dummy picks that exact moment to ask, “What’s a dregs cell?”

The guy squints at Dummy. This is the part where the lack of questions asked in supervillain circles backfires on them. “Wait, you don’t know that? And why are you asking so many questions?”

“Haha, we’re just curious,” Donghyuck butts in, already gesturing at Jaemin to grab Dummy and get the hell out of there. He smiles as wide as he can. “Thanks for the info, guess we don’t need your autograph after all.”

The guy huffs and stalks around the counter to wipe off the penis Jaemin traced in the white ghost of his breath on a cabinet full of emerald rings.

/

The clack of Yuta’s keyboard pauses. “Youngho, could you get me a beer?”

Youngho looks up from from his hands. Without turning his head, he relays the order, “Donghyuck, Yuta wants you to get him a beer.”

Donghyuck huffs and stays seated with his arms crossed over his chest until Youngho finally turns to look at him and he succumbs. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his hands to protect them from the freezing cold of the can.

“Here you go,” Donghyuck says. He sets the can down on Yuta’s desk.

Yuta keeps typing. “Yeah.” Jaemin and Youngho have always been stronger in the politeness field.

Donghyuck huffs and sits on the armrest of Yuta’s office chair stolen from his first and last workplace. “What are you doing?”

Yuta finishes typing in _bet none of u losers have had the idea to kidnap the superhero orgs presidents kid_ and presses enter to submit his comment on an obscure site _._ He says, “Stirring shit up.”

Donghyuck grins. “Cool. Could you go into the school system and get me out of a detention, by the way?”

“Again?” Yuta sighs. He opens the school site he’s got bookmarked. “Why can’t you follow Jaemin’s lead? He works hard, gets only one tenth of the detentions you do.”

“Well, what is he even going to do with all that trouble? Go to _university_ or something?” Donghyuck snorts.

Yuta glances at Donghyuck. “From what he told me, yeah.”

Donghyuck stares. A little bing notices Yuta of a reply to his comment. He jumps a bit in his seat out of glee and reopens the tab. The reply: _Heard some loser brag about doing just that in Devil’s Corner a few days ago. How’s it feel being outwitted by a dreg?_

Yuta huffs. “Huh. Guess we’re going to Devil’s Corner tomorrow night, then.”

Youngho clears his throat. “Yuta, I sure hope that _we_ doesn’t include my Duckling.”

“Stop calling me Duckling, please, dad. Jaemin’s going to university?” Donghyuck stutters.

Yuta waves his hand. “Go suck a dick, Seo, I’m the one who adopted him first.” He hunches further over his keyboard. “And Donghyuck, why don’t you go notify your personal superhero?”

Donghyuck pulls on Yuta’s jacket, soaked through with the stench of his mint cigarettes, and leaves the flat. He watches the different floors’ doors pass as the lift goes down. The walls are littered with remnants of stickers and posters. One for Donghyuck’s school play two years ago that Jaemin insisted on sticking there.

Jaemin. Donghyuck’s never really thought about the future, maybe out of simple disinterest or fear. So Jaemin suddenly building one for himself - or rather perching on the brink of collecting the fruit of his hard work Donghyuck never even bothered to notice him plant - is embarrassing. Donghyuck feels like a loser.

“Hey,” Dummy says, sitting down on the curb next to Donghyuck. He waves at his dog to steer clear of Donghyuck.

Donghyuck sets his chin on the head of a teddy bear he just stole from a kindergarten. It’s scruffy but he wraps his arms around it and grabs his other wrist with his left hand over its tummy and says, “We found out something new about your missing kid.”

Rummaging through his bomber’s pockets, Dummy hums, “Oh, cool. Dried seaweed?”

Donghyuck takes the pack he’s being offered and rips it open. The seaweed sticks to his palate. “Apparently someone overheard a guy in a bar bragging about kidnapping him. Hackie thinks we should check that place out tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good,” Dummy says, laying one sheet of seaweed on his tongue. The pixels close around the green. “Hey, Catnip.”

Donghyuck stops clicking his nails against the bear’s plastic eyes. “Yeah?”

“You’re upset about something,” Dummy states. He rips the corner of another sheet of seaweed and throws it to his dog.

“You know what? Honestly, yeah. Am I supposed to tell you my complete tragic background story now so you can fill out your excel on miserable jerks?”

Unperturbed, Dummy laughs. “No, it’s okay. I just like being able to read you. Most of the time, it almost feels like I have dyslexia.”

Donghyuck looks away.

/

Dummy looks good. Like, even with the stupid giraffe mask Donghyuck only chose because it was the cheapest and dumbest-looking in the store. Like, leather jacket and black jeans - not original, but very nice.

Taeil taps on Donghyuck’s hand. _Don’t drool_ , he signs, blue and green light slipping through his moving fingers. The bar’s noisy, filled to the point of rupture with supervillains. For once in his life, Donghyuck’s thankful for sign language.

Taeil was joking, but Donghyuck still wipes at the corner of his mouth. He was curious before, but now it’s like a piece of apple skin stuck between his teeth that he just can’t get out. He wants to have a nose and a pair of eyes and a mouth to couple with Dummy’s inadvertently charming nature and golden mean voice.

Alas, they do say curiosity killed the cat and Donghyuck’s already made plans to die an insane, memorable death at twenty-five.

Youngho comes back with his and Taeil’s drinks. Donghyuck and Dummy get apple juice. Youngho says, “The bartender told me someone who sounds a lot like our bragger comes in every Friday. We should be able to find him.”

Donghyuck tilts his glass, swirling the juice around. “Oh, yay.”

Dummy lifts his mask a bit to sip on the juice, seemingly perfectly happy with it. Youngho starts bulldozing through the crowd. The other three pad behind him in single file, Taeil’s glass getting passed through Donghyuck to the end of the train to Dummy, who only takes a tiny hesitant sip, and back.

“That could be him,” Youngho guesses. Taeil, Donghyuck and Dummy have to rise on the tip of their toes to see the drunk man blabbering to a remotely interested crowd.

As soon as Youngho steps into the ring of listeners around the guy, the slurred monologue comes to a skittering halt. The guy looks up at Youngho and yaps, “Whatchu looking at, giraffe?” Dummy steps out from behind Youngho and the others. “Oh, that’s funny.”

“Hey, we’re not here to pick a fight,” Youngho explains, stepping closer. “Why don’t we buy you a drink?”

Youngho’s wallet some three thousand won lighter, the guy swallows another gulp of beer, nods and says, “Yeah, I did try to catch the kid, but something blinded me so he escaped.”

“Sure,” Donghyuck deadpans, “it was probably the sun. At night.”

“Can you imagine how insanely hard it was to find out that bastard’s real identity? Months’ work, gone like that,” the guy laments, as if he didn’t hear Donghyuck interjection. He licks foam off his upper lip.

“Okay, right, so he ran away. Do you remember which way he went?” Youngho asks.

“Well, down towards the next metro station. I’d say it’s damn near impossible to find him now.”

“Got it. Would you mind telling us his real name?”

The guy snorts. “So you can swoop in and reap the ransom I worked my ass off for? Keep dreaming, boys.”

Youngho goes to the bathroom, which gives Taeil the opportunity to order as many shots as Donghyuck and Dummy can get down before he comes back. “Come on, big boy, show us how real supervillains drink,” Donghyuck hollers right in Dummy’s ear.

Dummy throws his head back and gulps down his shot. Taeil smiles and claps, no sound.

Youngho comes back. Taeil, Donghyuck and Dummy shuffle in front of the counter to cover the empty glasses. “Ready to go?”

The nights are starting to get cold. The back of Donghyuck’s throat throbs with warmth. His cheeks peek out from under his mask, like red apples. Dummy tells him that, sticking a finger through the hole in his own mask to rub at the corner of his eye. Donghyuck can’t figure out how to reply so he doesn’t.

Two metro stations away from the hq, Donghyuck stops at the top of the stairs, the gaping mouth of the station. Standing two steps down, Youngho’s reduced to approximately his height. Donghyuck stares at the light tubes along the sides of the staircase. He feels numb in the head. “You can go home already, I’ll follow in a bit.”

Taeil shrugs. _Whatever. Don’t die or anything._

 _He’s a kid!_ Youngho signs back, his hands much bigger and movements sharp compared to Taeil’s ease.

 _I taught him how to steal wallets. I can’t really preach to him about something like this,_ Taeil says, then turns to hop down the stairs. Youngho hurries after him.

Donghyuck and Dummy are left at the stop of the stairs. Donghyuck lets out the giggle he was holding back. “Wanna go somewhere?”

Somewhere meaning another curb. The green cross of the pharmacy behind them is dark above their heads. Dummy straightens his legs out. He swings his feet inward so his sneakers’ tips point towards each other, then back out.

Donghyuck leans his head on a parked Toyota’s brake light. “Why did you even choose us to help you with this?”

Dummy’s quiet for a moment. His mask shifts, meaning he’s biting on the inside of his cheek. “That’s confidential.”

“Come on, Dummy, that’s so boring,” Donghyuck whines. He kicks at Dummy’s calf.

Dummy looks away. “I can’t tell you.”

Donghyuck keeps nudging Dummy’s calf until he looks back at him. “Yes you do,” he persuades Dummy.

“Because of you,” Dummy eventually slurs, then pukes.

/

 _Someone at the door_ , Donghyuck signs with his eyes closed, cocooned face down on the couch. Taeil pats his butt and gets up to go get it.

The lock clicks open. It’s Joohyun from the cell upstairs, over-enunciating, “Hello, Taeil. Are the others home?”

Taeil points towards the couch and pads off. He’s always been a bit wary around Joohyun. But it’s not unjustified, she runs cold when in contact with him. Yuta says it’s because she hates not knowing things. Sign language being one of them.

Donghyuck pokes his head out from under the blanket. “Hi, Joohyun,” he greets.

“What, you aren’t going to at least sit up to greet your elder?” Joohyun grins, rubbing at Donghyuck’s head with her knuckles. “Brat.”

Donghyuck laughs, leaning away. He can’t help but feel slightly protective over Taeil. “What’s up?”

Joohyun points at a Tupperware she set down on the kitchen table when she came in. “We had some leftover muffins - our new extra mouth wasn’t very hungry,” she sighs.

“Extra mouth?” Donghyuck echoes. “I was wondering when Sooyoung would get pregnant.”

Joohyun gives Donghyuck an unamused look. “You’ll have to come visit soon. Listen, can I use your bathroom?”

Trusting Joohyun’ll stay in the bathroom for at least thirty minutes to first gasp at the disarray, then clean it, Donghyuck crawls out of his cocoon. Humming to himself a tune he doesn’t remember learning, he sways down the short hallway to the last door. Officially Taeil’s room. Youngho’s been an illegal tenant for a while now.

It’s no use knocking. Donghyuck pokes his head inside. Taeil looks up from his palms, surprised by the cold draft that sneaks in around Donghyuck’s ankles.

 _Can I?_ Donghyuck asks. Taeil nods.

Entirely according to plan, Donghyuck hears Joohyun let herself out about half an hour later. He goes back to reading the lines on Taeil’s palm, even if he’s just inventing everything he says. Taeil doesn’t seem opposed to having thirteen kids and a pony at some point in his life.

 _Jaemin hasn’t been around much lately,_ Donghyuck signs when he can’t come up with anything more to say about the crease between Taeil’s middle and ring finger. He’s been turning the thought over in his head but hasn’t found an opportunity to speak to anyone about it yet, what with Youngho always out teaching English to rich kids and Yuta looking for the missing son on every site imaginable.

A wrinkle appears between Taeil eyebrows. That one Donghyuck really knows, it’s for when he’s very very fond and maybe a bit sad. _He’s not going to abandon you, you know._

Staring at his hands instead of looking at Taeil, Donghyuck replies, _I just feel like I’m being left behind._

 _Duckie,_ Taeil says. His hand opens and closes in front of his mouth, imitating a duck’s beak, _you’ll have plenty of opportunities. Not going to university doesn’t make you a lesser person, it’s just the way he feels he can escape home. You have to find your own way._

Donghyuck nods. He picks at a rip on one of the big sheets of paper Taeil’s hung up to cover the patchy walls.

 _At the risk of seeming like I’m brainwashing you, I don’t really want you to leave,_ Taeil admits. _We’re not the best people and we’re even worse role models but we really cherish you, kid. And Jaemin, too, of course._

Donghyuck can’t hold his smile in. _I’ll blame you if I end up still living with you guys when I’m fifty._

Taeil shrugs.

/

Donghyuck looks at Yerim struggling to carry two bags stuffed with food. He doesn’t really want to speak to anyone at all but the streaks across her palms turn from white to red as the blood returns when she lets go. Plus, she’s blocking the lift’s door.

“Hey, uh,” Donghyuck sidles up to Yerim, hands in his pockets, “would you like some help?”

Yerim’s eyes go all shiny. “Hyuck, my knight in shining armour!” she coos, immediately holding out one of the bags towards Donghyuck.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, takes the plastic bag and steps into the lift. “What the hell did you even buy? Weights?” he asks, peering into it. There’s milk, rice, tomatoes, pads.

Yerim laughs. The lift passes Donghyuck’s floor before he can push the button and make his escape to cry in his room. They arrive at the girls’ floor, a few stories up, and step out.

The half a dozen little keychains Yerim makes Yuta bring back every time he goes visit Japan (mainly to graffity his family’s secrets on his old man’s outdoor sports store’s window on his birthday every year - it’s a tradition) jingle as she twists the key in the lock. One of the K-On! girls’ body’s missing, just her head left.

Yerim has to bump her hip on the door in time with the third click of the lock for it to open. The lights are on already. A boy looks away from the tv and freezes.

“Who the hell?” Donghyuck blurts.

Yerim goes to the corner kitchen identical to Yuta and co’s, just much better kept. She chuckles. “Calm down, it’s just Mark.”

“Who’s Mark?” Donghyuck asks. He hovers over Yerim’s shoulder while she puts the groceries away.

“That’s me,” Mark stutters from the armchair.

Donghyuck turns and huffs, “Well, yeah, obviously, but what are you?”

“He’s my cousin,” Yerim explains.

“Your cousin,” Donghyuck repeats. Yerim and Mark both nod. “Right. If you would excuse me, I’m going to go bawl my eyes out.”

“Aw, won’t you stay for a little catfishing?” Yerim’s bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mark watches on in fascination as Donghyuck makes a reluctant u-turn and sits beside Yerim at the low table in the living room. She opens her laptop cluttered so badly with stickers the original colour is hardly visible.

Donghyuck looks at Yerim log into one of her ten accounts. She clicks on a new message and opens it. Mark’s snuck closer on her other side, craning his neck to see what they’re doing.

_I want to see my beautiful waifu in real life…_

Yerim snickers and starts writing a reply. “Aren’t you overdoing it a bit with the hearts?” Donghyuck asks.

Yerim pauses at her sixth heart in a row. “He calls me waifu. _Nothing_ ’s too much at this point.”

“Fair.” Donghyuck shrugs.

Yerim goes through a few more new messages before she asks, “You said something about bawling your eyes out?”

“Everyone’s just expecting sob stories from me for free lately,” Donghyuck huffs, “but fine. Basically a dude blew up at me about an hour ago because we haven’t been able to complete our task and his boss’s grilling him really bad about it.”

“Just a dude?” Yerim interjects, off-handed, midway through a message to another tinder freak. Mark’s eyes are wide and curious over the crown of her head.

“Yeah.”

Mark blinks, like a mouse or a puppy but with little clusters of acne on his cheeks and practiced posture. Donghyuck thinks there’s something weirdly familiar and familiarly weird about him, with his rectangle smile and staticky voice.

Mark looks away, startled and Donghyuck feels sad all of a sudden.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Donghyuck announces, getting up.

And that’s what he does - he goes to the bathroom and closes the toilet seat’s lid and sits on it and pulls his knees to his chest. Dummy’s words ring in his head, sharp around the edges even though Dummy doesn’t seem like he could hurt a fly. But nothing had been said about young supervillains with fragile hearts.

Donghyuck cries a few bitter tears, then spends the next twenty minutes trying the girls’ heaps of hand creams and forgiving Dummy, despite it all.

/

“You’re really planning on going to study somewhere?” Donghyuck asks, leaning against the wall of the lift.

Jaemin pushes the button for the sixth floor. “Yup, that’s the plan. A scholarship would be ideal but I think my parents would pay to get rid of me if need be,” he says.

Donghyuck swallows. “That’s great. What do you want to study?”

“Economics, probably,” Jaemin laughs. “Then I can open a really good store that you can come rob every once in a while.”

The lift stops. Pushing the door open, Donghyuck snickers, “Who knows, maybe I’ll be the delivery dude bringing you your fried chicken instead.”

Jaemin turns to look at Donghyuck and really smiles. Joohyun comes open the door for them and invites them in, chippering, “What’s brought you here?”

Donghyuck holds up the spatula Youngho borrowed two months ago. Joohyun nods, takes it and sets off somewhere.

Both Jaemin and Donghyuck bent down to untie their shoes, blood rushing to their heads, Donghyuck whispers, “Can you distract Joohyun for a sec? I need to talk to someone.”

Jaemin kicks his left shoe off. “What? Why?”

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Donghyuck hisses, then straightens up.

Jaemin pads to the kitchen, where Joohyun’s already disinfecting the spatula and heating milk for hot chocolate. Donghyuck totters into the living room. Mark’s sitting and watching tv again.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, sitting next to Mark on the couch. Mark glances at him and nods in greeting. A game show’s on. “Are you Chewer?”

Donghyuck can physically feel how blunt it was, through the weight on his own tongue and Mark’s little jolt. Eyes shifting around the room, Mark says, “Why?”

“How could I forget the fucker who followed me around and kept me from doing anything fun for almost the entirety of last year?” Donghyuck asks. “I still can’t chew gum because of you.”

Mark stares. “What the - Catnip?”

“Took you long enough. My voice’s been compared to _Toxic,_ you know,” Donghyuck comments. “I recognised you pretty fast, even though it was really hard to digest that you’re hanging out in the city’s fifth most expensive hitwomen’s living room.”

Mark rubs at the nape of his neck. Says, “Yeah, it’s an experience for sure.”

“Why, though?”

Mark looks at the ceiling, likely contemplating how much he’s safe revealing. “Well, I guess I simply got tired of all that superhero stuff.”

“That’s it?” Donghyuck asks. With how much Mark seemed to get off on coming up with ways to ruin his fun, it’s hard to believe.

Mark shrugs. “That’s it.”

“You know each other,” Joohyun says, walking over with mugs of hot chocolate, Jaemin right behind her. It’s a statement.

/

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Donghyuck gushes, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Done with flipping random switches behind the kitchen door to see which one gets the conveyor belt going, Dummy wipes his hands on his jeans and smiles. He circles around to stand next to Donghyuck. “I’m assuming you had something you wanted to talk about.” The belt whirs on.

Donghyuck tilts his head to the left and admits, “Not really.”

“Huh,” Dummy says.

The conveyor belt winds through the sushi restaurant like a snake, rattling in its rage about being awakened after midnight. The lettering on the window breaks the cascade of streetlight falling in through the window. Donghyuck shuffles a bit in his half-broken Converse with doodles all over the rubber parts.

Donghyuck missed Dummy. It’s been a week since Dummy blew up at him about the lack of progress in their rescue mission, dark circles around his eyes almost visible through the pixels. It was obvious he was just dumping what his superiors had told him on Donghyuck, cruel and inconsiderate in his exhaustion.

Seven days and a few hours later, he doesn’t look any better rested but he seems less flammable. He sits at one of the stools at the counter and looks at Donghyuck and says, “I’m sorry for last time.”

The corner of Donghyuck’s mouth rises. He cried about it already, felt sorry for himself and let go. “It’s okay. But next time maybe try sticking a print-out of my face on a pillow and screaming at it first.”

Dummy’s gaze lingers on Donghyuck, like he’s worried he’s lying. “It’s just that my division’s head’s threatening she’ll lay me off the case if we don’t get some results soon.”

“Seriously?” Donghyuck finds a little plastic dinosaur figurine in his pocket - from the kindergarten a while back - and sets it down on the conveyor belt. He watches it sail around the room. “I just got used to your bullshit. You’re telling me I have to start all over again?”

Dummy ducks his head and chuckles. “Usually a ransom note would’ve come in ages ago, there’s a big chance the boss’s son’s dead already. I wouldn’t really call this a success on my part.”

“Hm, maybe so,” Donghyuck hums.

Donghyuck doesn’t want Dummy to be replaced with some old, boring superhero who takes offence at his jabs and jokes. And even with the pixels shrouding his face, Dummy seems reluctant too.

/

“About that dude staying upstairs with the girls,” Jaemin says, plopping down on the couch. He puts away the history book he was most likely reading through on the way to the hq, “does he ever leave the flat? Dude’s like, what, eighteen, nineteen? Does he just stay holed up in there watching tv like an old hermit?”

Donghyuck wipes Cheetos dust on his sweatpants. “I don’t know, maybe he just doesn’t want to run into his ex colleagues.” He lifts his index finger, matter-of-fact. “Apparently, superheroes sometimes feel this thing called shame.”

Jaemin goes along with the joke. “Huh. Sounds like something they would bother with.”

What happens next is Yuta calls to tell Donghyuck to go grocery shopping with him. Donghyuck says he won’t and hangs up but gets up to put his shoes on anyway.

“It’s so unfair,” Donghyuck whines. He pulls his suede jacket on. “Why do you never have to do anything?”

“Take it as a compliment, Yuta finds you capable of carrying a bag of groceries. Most wouldn’t,” Jaemin grins.

Donghyuck pulls the door open, middle finger up, saying, “Wow, thanks. I don’t think you’ll have any problem getting admitted into Clusterfuck University College.”

Jaemin’s laughter bleeds through into the hallway. Donghyuck stomps down the stairs, out of the building and up the street. The supermarket’s doors don’t detect him at first so he jumps around in front of them for a bit until Yuta shows up and they finally slide open.

“Weirdo,” Yuta comments, trudging straight to the instant noodles.

Donghyuck stops to grab a basket. “Those doors have a problem with me,” he complains.

Starting to ladle the basket full of noodles, Yuta says, “Oh, okay, I’ll put them on the list.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. Yuta moves on to the fruits because Youngho would complain his ears off otherwise. “You have feelings for that superhero, don’t you?” he asks, throwing two apples into the basket. Like a sudden August outpour of rain.

Donghyuck glances at the ceiling and wonders where the hell _that_ came from. “Um, no? I don’t know.”

Yuta goes to the check-out and starts lifting the items on the conveyor belt. “So you do.”

Donghyuck grips the basket’s handle tighter. “Maybe?”

Yuta sighs. He starts digging his wallet out of his pocket. “I don’t lie to you, Hyuck, you know that.” Donghyuck nods. “He’s a superhero. I’m worried he’ll make mince out of your heart and eat it with pasta and tomato sauce.”

“That’s a weird figure of speech.”

After all, Yuta, who’s known Donghyuck the longest, who accidentally broke into an orphanage when he was sixteen, surprised eleven-year-old Donghyuck on his way to take a midnight leak and finally agreed to take the kid with him when Donghyuck wouldn’t let go of him. Yuta, who was just aiming to steal a tv for the next couple months’ rent and ended up with a younger boy with hair that curls delicately at the tips and a knack for summoning cats. And the strictly sanctioned tv from the activity room, of course.

Yuta, who warns, “Just be careful. We’re nothing but vermin to most of these people.”

/

Mark opens the door. “Hey, Cat - uh, Donghyuck,” he greets. He steps aside to let Donghyuck in. “What’s up?”

Donghyuck kicks his slippers off and trudges straight towards the bathroom. He explains, “Our shower doesn’t work. I’ll use yours, if it’s alright.”

“Oh, um. Go ahead,” Mark says to Donghyuck’s back. He glances down at the bowl of popcorn under his arm, shrugs and shuffles back to the couch.

Actually, the hq’s shower works as well as it’s ever worked but Donghyuck couldn’t find any more spatulas or detergent bottles or waffle irons to use as pretext to come visit. He’s running a little self-indulgent investigation, the main subject being the boy whose eyes have become wide and dry from all the tv watching.

Donghyuck steps out of his clothes. Seungwan’s shampoo is transluscent pink and smells really nice. As Donghyuck rubs loads of it into his hair, he thinks.

Mark - superhero name Chewer because he’s perpetually chewing on gum, although it has nothing to do with his power, which is increase and decrease of height and strength according to the amount of sunlight - was charged with keeping tabs on Donghyuck a year and a half ago.

Problem was, he did it a bit too well and Donghyuck’s heart didn’t settle for pure annoyance but also caught a bad case of the common crush.

Donghyuck didn’t and doesn’t give a shit about the objects of his affection being guys, but them recurrently being superheroes is among the biggest fiascos of his life. So he held tight until Mark was presumably assigned to run after some other supervillain as seems to be customary, and that was that.

The same exact pattern Donghyuck’s followed to the last fluttering heartbeat with Dummy. But now, looking at himself in the steamy mirror, he isn’t so sure he can sit still this time around.

Donghyuck buys himself time by trying every single moisturiser he can find in the bathroom. He’s never been good at being scared but now his chest feels numb and tight. Damn.

Face moisturised to heaven and back, Donghyuck finally sneaks out of the bathroom and into the living room. He tiptoes behind Mark, who’s watching the glowing screen in the dark. Then, he grabs Mark’s sides.

Popcorn flies all over the floor. Mark scrambles a few metres away, surprise quickly melting into laughter.

Donghyuck smiles. “I think I know why you’re here.”

/

Donghyuck would gladly exchange his fright of cucumbers for even a bit of flexibility. It would make climbing to a balcony on the third floor a million times easier.

It’s cold as all hell and Donghyuck only thought to put on Youngho’s humongous hoodie instead of a proper coat. The railings are cold. A sharp wind slashes at Donghyuck’s cheeks.

Finally on the second balcony from the left on the third floor, Donghyuck’s faced with a door with no handle on the outside, destined precisely to keep suspicious balcony-climbing people like him from entering. He’s had better thought-out plans.

Donghyuck bangs on the glass door. It takes a while but eventually a boy rounds the corner into the kitchen, holding what seems to be a glowing elven sword. Even in the dark, through the door, Donghyuck can see the severe tightness in his shoulders.

Praying to every god he can think of that this isn’t the wrong balcony, Donghyuck grins and waves his hand a bit. The boy reaches for the handle and pulls the door open carefully.

“Who are you?” the guy asks, jaw tense and unwilling to let the words out properly, and there’s no doubt left in Donghyuck’s mind.

Donghyuck steps in and coos, “Aw, babe, I didn’t know you have rad video game weapons, too?” He sticks his face close to the ice blue blade. “Which one’s this from, Zelda?”

The guy blinks, then deflates visibly. “Catnip.”

“Donghyuck,” Donghyuck corrects and grabs Dummy’s hand as he attempts to turn his mask on behind his ear. “My name’s Donghyuck.”

The guy - Dummy, of course, who else - reels and Donghyuck almost fears for a second that he shouldn’t have run to the other side of the city and climbed on someone’s balcony in the middle of the night and blurted out his true identity to this boy from the enemy camp, no matter how in love he is. But it’s dark and the balcony door really ought to be closed and whatever he can make out of Dummy’s face is already so attractive he might just go turn himself in to the police if the lights were switched on.

All there’s left to do is step so, so close to Dummy their noses almost bump. Dummy looks somewhere to the left, breaths shallow and nervous, and Donghyuck’s never been so glad to be able to make out someone’s eyelashes.

Donghyuck pauses the tip of a finger away from Dummy’s mouth. “Your name? You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“Jeno,” Dummy divulges, like he was only waiting for Donghyuck to ask. He says it in such a hurry his bottom lip almost brushes Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck grins and breaches the little distance there’s left. Jeno’s mouth’s hot and clumsy, the pads of his thumbs dragging streaks of warmth over Donghyuck’s frostbitten cheeks.

“Oh,” Donghyuck remembers, pulling away and almost dying of happiness when Jeno makes to chase after his mouth, “one more thing. I found your boss’s son.”

Jeno lifts a non-pixelated eyebrow. “Huh?”

Donghyuck shrugs and pulls Jeno out on the balcony. Jeno hovers on the pads of his bare feet and Donghyuck just wants to carry him back inside - then remembers he’s a few centimetres shorter and never does any sports.

Chained to a bike stand down in the street, forcibly wrapped in three layers of thick clothing, Mark tilts his face up towards Donghyuck and Jeno. “You done yet?” he calls, bending down to wipe his nose on Taeil’s parka’s sleeve.

“What, I was really looking forward to that _Juliet, oh Juliet_ ,” Donghyuck sneers.

Jeno laughs and tugs Donghyuck back inside. Once he’s pulled on something more weather-appropriate they leave the tiny flat to skip down the stairs to Mark’s rescue.

“How did you find him?” Jeno asks, palm sliding along the railing.

A bit short of breath, Donghyuck replies, “Apparently after he was ambushed by that asshole we met in the bar and punched him, he ran away and was found by - well, our neighbours, who let him stay at theirs. Then he said something about realising he wasn’t quite cut out for the whole superhero thing but i was a bit too busy trying to get him in handcuffs to listen, really.”

Jeno pushes the main door of the complex open. The streetlight hits his face, toppling over the swell of his bottom lip, his neat smile. “You’re unbelievable. Donghyuck.”

/

Yuta’s jaw’s clenched shut so bad he can’t even say anything, so Youngho roars in his stead, “Are you fucking crazy, kid? What’s he doing here?”

Jeno taps on the back of Donghyuck’s hand, either comforting or distressed. Donghyuck grabs his hand and holds it against the small of his back and answers, “He quit being a superhero.”

“Oh yeah?” Yuta finally regains his voice. “How can you be so sure this isn’t another _inside job_ to throw all of us in jail for the rest of our lives?”

Donghyuck rebuts, “Just check the fucking registers and you’ll see!”

That’s what Yuta does. He looks at the red stamp over Dummy’s picture, mouse miraculously intact in his crushing, white-knuckled grip.

“Woah, you’ve been able to do that all along?” Jeno marvels. Youngho throws him a nasty look. He steps behind Donghyuck.

“Yeah, but we can’t access addresses or anything like that. That was all Mark and his mom’s login credentials,” Donghyuck explains, swivelling around to press a kiss on Jeno’s cheek. Yuta gasps.

“Mark?” Youngho asks.

“Yeah, the superhero organisation’s boss’s son. I found him.”

“And the money?” Yuta butts in.

Donghyuck nods. “We’ll get it, Jeno already took Mark to their central office to excuse himself.”

The air lightens considerably. Taeil finishes the tea he’s been sipping throughout this bataille he’s most likely chosen to pretend to not have noticed.

“I can’t believe the first boy he brings home is a superhero,” Youngho sighs.

Yuta shuts his computer down and grumbles, “Just know we’re volunteering you as sacrificial gift if shit ever goes south because of your boyfriend.”

“This went well,” Donghyuck says to Jeno, who makes a disbelieving face.

Taeil seems to at last return to the real world. He walks up to them to ruffle Jeno’s hair and sign to Donghyuck, _His face’s definitely better than his ass._

 _Yeah, he’s so pretty,_ Donghyuck replies, answering Jeno’s inquiring gaze with a shrug. No way he’s telling Jeno, his criminal’s dignity’s already stretched thin enough.

Taeil smiles. _You’ll both fit on your futon, right?_

/♡/

Yuta bangs on Donghyuck and Jeno’s bedroom’s door. “I have to talk to Jeno,” he hollers, trying the doorknob.

Donghyuck glances down. “His mouth’s a bit full right now,” he can feel the low rumble of Jeno’s laughter, “b-but I can be the middleman!”

There’s a stunned pause. “Holy fuck,” Yuta screams, “Youngho? Youngho, did you hear what that brat just said?”

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween or something  
> twt: @yeshyuck  
> (i'm on my phone so i can't put the link in lmao sry)


End file.
